Cascade Falls [Arc I]

[Jess Buck]

After work, Jessica made her way back to her house and smiled at Lyle, who was sitting on the couch with his homework.
"Hey kiddo." She said, taking off her shoes and setting down her bag. "How was school?" She asked. Lyle shrugged.
"Fine...." He mumbled. Jessica walked over to the couch and sat down next to Lyle.
"Whatcha got there?" She asked. Lyle showed Jessica the worksheet he was working on.
"Geometry." Jessica frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.
"Eww." Lyle chuckled
"Tell me about it." He went back to his homework. Jessica sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.
"What do you want for dinner?" She asked, standing up and heading over to the kitchen. Lyle shrugged
"Whatever." Jessica rolled her eyes
"That doesn't help bud." Lyle shrugged again
"I'll eat whatever." Jessica sighed and thought for a moment. She smiled sadly to herself.
"I know what to make...." She said, and began bustling around the kitchen to put together a meal.

While Jessica was still in the kitchen cooking, Lyle had finished his homework and could smell something delcious. He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.
"What are you cooking?" He asked. Jessica looked back at Lyle and smiled.
"It's a recipe my-" She stopped herself mid sentence and cleared her throat. "It's just a recipe I remembered....." She said quietly before turning back to the stove sadly. Lyle knew why she was upset. He went over to her and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sure it will taste great." Jessica looked up at Lyle and smiled. Lyle mouthed the words to her
"I'm sorry." Jessica nodded to him and went back to the food. Lyle went to the kitchen table and sat down.
"So what is this food?' He asked. Jessica giggled
"You'll have to wait until it's finished, hijo." Jessica paused suddenly. That was the first time since she came here to Cascade Falls that she had spoken Spanish. Suddenly memory, upon memory, came flushing back to her. Her mother, her father, her sister, her brother. Everything like a tidal wave. She dropped her wooden spoon.
"Jessica?" Lyle said. When She didn't answer, and started breathly heavily, Lyle stood. "Jessica what's wrong?" Jessica turned to Lyle her face stark white and eyes filling with tears.
"T-Take me to Dr. Harmon." She said, trying to hold back her tears. Lyle nodded and quickly went over to Jessica and grabbed her hand. He held onto her tightly as he guided her out to door and towards Dr. Harmon's building.

 

[of Dirt]

Peter's smile slowly faded as Riley's footsteps were too far to be heard any longer. "Poor kid," he mumbled to himself, putting the new beer back into the mini-fridge. "A beer isn't going to change anything." A piece of scrap paper lay in front of him on his desk, with scribbles of things he wanted to say on the night of the bar's celebration. I soon realized that this town needed a place for people to escape and just have a good time; he read one of the lines. He said something to that effect nearly every year during the celebration, regarding how the bar came to be, and every year he wondered if that was what the town really needed. I've wasted my time, he concluded with a sigh. He took out a clean piece of paper and with a trembling hand began writing something new.

"Howdy," Riley said through the microphone as a test. His voice blared throughout the entire bar to everybody's discomfort. "Oops." David adjusted the volume some distance away from him and gave him a thumbs up. "Fuckity," he said, testing the mic again. It sounded better. He grabbed the acoustic guitar sitting against the wall behind him and adjusted the strap comfortably around him. They hired somebody to play live on the big night and needed to make sure everything sounded right. Riley was the only one with any musical experience. A much smaller microphone was attached to the guitar. He struck a chord and cleared his throat. "So, let's take this for a spin, yea?"

Although there weren't that many people in the bar save for its employees, playing in front of anybody always made him nervous, which often perplexed those who were familiar with his big mouth. On top of that, he hadn't practiced much for a long time. Playing acoustic when he had free time at home used to be a fundamental part of his life. Ever since he came to Cascade Falls, it quickly stopped being the case. He couldn't listen to or play the same music anymore. It was against the rules. Some songs encompassed an entire decade or generation of people and were often very similar to talking about the past. The best way to forget was to not play, despite how much it bothered him.

He cleared his throat again and heard Vicky giggling behind the counter, unfamiliar with a nervous Riley. "Yea, yea. Keep laughing, missy," he said, chuckling a little at himself. He took a deep breath. "This is called 'La da dee da,'" he announced before beginning to play the simple tune. It was a song he wrote himself many years ago and one of the few he had ever written. He wrote it when he first met his ex-wife, Cassie. Usually he just played songs he liked. He never considered himself a song writer. It was mostly instrumental, with the only lyrics being 'La da dee da da da da da' during the chorus. It was slow, Americana-styled and often with depressing overtones, but the chorus always managed to bring the mood up. Nobody would say he was a particularly good singer, but he knew his limitations and never included notes he couldn't hit. The notes were on the lower end and his voice soft. It was effective in its own limited and humble way.

"Thanks," Riley said with a smile as his co-workers applauded. The day went by quickly, with everyone bustling around making sure everything else was ready for the big night. Unfortunately, playing the song brought back memories of Cassie. Some were happy memories, but they were all enveloped by the fact that it didn't work out and it was probably his fault. A couple of shots kept the thoughts at bay and by late afternoon, he found himself thinking about the new beers he wanted to give to Josh and Casey. He knew Josh would be around for the celebration, but Casey was still a wild card to him. Maybe I should get it to her, he thought as he walked over to his work station. He put the 750 ml bottle in one of the individual cardboard boxes they originally came packaged in and studied it. Well that look suspicious, he thought. He shrugged and taped the box shut. He made sure there was nothing left to do before leaving for the Coffee shop and said his goodbyes.

It was almost closing time, so the Coffee shop didn't have nearly as many customers as it did in the morning. He walked in, feeling slightly out of place. He was rarely seen at the shop. Coffee and pastries wasn't usually his thing. "Hey Cassie," he said in his most pleasant voice as he walked up to the counter. "We miss you back at the bar, so just thought I'd come and say hi," he explained, furrowing his brow suddenly as he realized his mistake. He pointed at her. "It's pronounced Casey right? This is why I always struggled in English class." He wore a big, nervous grin. Dumbass. "Um…, so we're celebrating the bar's anniversary tomorrow night and we're going to be releasing a new beer too. It's gonna be a lot of fun. I hope to see you there, but I also wanted to make sure this got to you." He placed the boxed bottle on the counter. "This is a bottled version of the new beer. The design is etched in the glass. Only a handful of these were made. We give them to friends and our favorite customers. Out of our newest customers, you've been around the most, so this is a thank-you for that." His eyes narrowed and focused on her boss, having only just noticed that Lee was close enough to hear everything. "But if she drinks at work and acts like a hooligan, I'll take full responsibility," he said with a chuckle, smiling ear to ear.

 

[Muirgen]

"For a lady who does windows?" Lee answered her from his stepladder perch with a grin that no setting sun or long shadows could hide. "There is no such thing as 'too early.'" He climbed down from his perch with a couple quick steps and a short hop from his self-appointed duty, dusting the high shelves above the cabinetry, wiping down the glass jar displays containing what was supposedly various coffee bean varieties. He tossed the rag over his shoulder with a good-natured shrug, folding up the stepladder with a metallic screech of hinges and poles.

Much like everything else in Cascade Falls, the containers of plastic beans he'd just been wiping down were not much more than a pretty façade, a pasted paper smiley face stuck over a gaping, bleeding wound. No matter - Lee didn't keep an immaculate shop to please the ever-present cameras and the cold, sleepless eyes that lurked behind them. Like everything else he did, his fine attention to detail was entirely for the citizens of Cascade Falls, a gift of every day decency from the man who'd somehow survived here so much longer than most. Lee couldn't have given a good damn if six inches of dust greeted those bastards on the other side of the camera lenses daily. His one and only thought was to keep the people of Cascade Falls from despair.

People who despaired, walked into electric fences. People who despaired hung themselves quietly in closets, or went mad dog during a fete and gleefully murdered their own.

People who despaired died a little more inside every day, letting their lives in Cascade Falls become the truth, forgetting everything they actually were, or did, or loved before they were torn away.

People who despaired, stopped looking for a way out.

Lee tossed the dust rag into the small bin of items he'd be washing tomorrow beneath the bar, turning on the water in the small sink behind the counter when he heard the tinkle of the bell at the door, the arrival of Riley unusual enough that Lee didn't bother pointing out the shop was about to close. His brow furrowed curiously as the man made his entrance, making straight for the counter and Casey too. The eye roll he had for the guy was both huge and hidden [from Riley at least, if not from the cameras] as he busied himself washing his hands. It was hard to pretend he heard nothing at all, completely oblivious to what had to be – if Lee was judging this right – one of the more original [if slightly awkward] ways he'd ever seen a man try hitting on a pretty lady in his life.

He was slightly surprised to realize Riley was addressing him as well, something about a drunk-on-duty Casey and the young woman acting a hooligan or some such here in the coffee shop. Lee chuckled softly, drying his hands off with a clean towel as he shook his head, wondering who in the hell used the word 'hooligan' anymore outside the U.K. - and then wondered if that was still even 'a thing' in the real world, just beyond the electric fences and sociopathic nurses. Or maybe it was 'a thing' all over again, what was old become new again and all that?

He walked over to the counter, peering down at Riley's box which, if he had eavesdropped thoroughly enough, contained an etched bottle of beer. "If she drinks this at work and acts a fool," Lee intoned with the faintest ghost of a teasing grin on his lips, "I'm going to be wondering how in the hell she got to be such a lightweight, sauced on one bottle of beer – unless of course you're brewing up our very own version of Everclear."

Lee knew what he was saying the moment it left his lips, and shared that self-satisfied smile with Riley and Casey before he ushered them both quickly for the door. "Either way, I'll arm wrestle you for her if it comes down to it, to keep my amazing new waitress from becoming your barmaid."

His wink promised Lee was only teasing – mostly – and he grabbed the large sterno of freshly brewed coffee in both hands he'd be bringing to Jean's tonight, his own small contribution to the lovely lady's get-together. "Casey, hit the lights for me would you? And lock up behind us?" Lee called over his shoulder as he shoved open the front door with his hip, holding it there for both of them.

 

[neptune]

Keeping an eye on the town was much more than standing on the surveillance floor all day, or micromanaging Eric Reed into doing his assigned job. There were times when Howard had to put himself with the people, mix and mingle with his medical pad, record his own observations about how insane a person was going, how depressed they were becoming after so many years of living in solitude and wondering why they were there in the town. If the truth was capable of being handled, Howard would have done away with the secrecy years ago—there would be no accidents, no need for cameras and microphones wedged into every nook and cranny—group A had already proved that the human mind wasn't ready to grasp such extreme change, and the thought of wasting group B in a similar manner filled Howard with fear. They needed to be monitored; it was for their own good.

After a long afternoon of seeing his regular patients, who made no mention of the Richards or anyone else on the list that had been sent to the sheriff that morning, Howard was packing up his things in order to return to the mountain. The day had been rather fruitless, in his opinion, just a few prescriptions written, gossip about this one or that one from the last barbeque, overly sensitive individuals crying into tissues and shirt sleeves over how badly they missed their old life. It was almost funny how little society had changed, and how boring man still was after so much time. Regardless, there was still work to be done in the mountain, and Howard was nearly out the door and on his way out of the hospital when he saw a shock of white hair in the distance.

It was hard to miss someone like Lyle, the boy from Seattle with something of a chip on his shoulder, the same one who was constantly flagged for slip ups. Culling the first generation for missing their parents was something that Howard was unwilling to do, and he hoped that, with time, they would begin to accept that the world was no longer theirs for the taking. However, that lecture was for another time, and as the boy raced toward him, he realized the small woman next to him, in a fit of tears and looking rather shaken. "Our session isn't until tomorrow, Jessica," he said as doctor Harmon, but knew that a real psychiatrist would never turn away a patient in crisis. Sometimes, it took every ounce of strength to hold back his discontent with the town.

"What's happened?" he asked, hoping that he could send her on her way with a few words of wisdom. The last thing he wanted to do was ride the elevator back up to his office.

Now that the sun had dipped below the mountain for the day, most of the valley was cast in shadow and it brought an immediate chill to the summer air. Eric walked briskly, with a bottle of wine in hand, toward Josh's house. It was just a stone's throw away from the Sheriff's office on Main, and Eric made the walk in record time. The outside of Josh's house was quiet, content-looking and not a sound could be heard from inside. He knocked on the door three or four times and waited for some kind of movement within; Josh had probably fallen asleep after getting his duties out of the way, not that Eric could blame him. So little happened in town that even he had caught a nap at his desk every once in a while.

Soon enough, Josh had come to the door. The other man looked like he was still caught in slumber, and Eric smiled his toothy grin at his friend. "You didn't forget about Jean's, did you?" he asked, still lingering there on the porch, right below the camera in the porch light, and the microphone that was probably tucked into the doorbell. The spying wasn't something that Eric even acknowledged anymore and it had become so routine and such an integral part of life that fighting it seemed like a waste of effort. Plus, it was easy not to worry about the invasion of privacy when he wasn't doing anything wrong.

After patiently waiting for Josh to gather his things, the two men were off. "It's rude to show up empty-handed, right?" he asked, rolling the bottle in his hand for Josh to see the label. "Think she'll like this? I picked it up at the store on my way over." If Jean was offering to make dessert for everyone, Eric figured that she deserved something nice—and even if he was no wine expert, he was sure that she could find some recipe to use it in. "I never know what to bring to these things."

Planning, gifts and dinner parties had always been more of Kelly's thing and the sudden thought of her hit Eric like a ton of bricks. Since becoming trapped in Cascade Falls, Eric had done his best to stop thinking of his life before; of his beautiful fiancee, their son, whose life he had now missed so much of, and his family that had been left behind. How was it that so many missing people ended up in a single town, with their images and voices constantly recorded, and yet, no police had ever come looking? Eric fell silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he and Josh approached Jean's Victorian up the block. He needed to shake off his emotions before they ruined the evening, but it was so hard to get Kelly out of his mind now that she was there.

Eric's boots made soft thuds against the wooden steps as he and Josh arrived quickly employed the same practice of knocking a few times. Standing there, he could faintly make out the smell of browned butter and sugar in the air, just beneath the wet smell of pine that was always hanging around. "Hi, Jean," Eric greeted once the woman answered the door, and forced away whatever thoughts of Kelly were currently clouding his judgment. "Are we the first to show up?" he asked, and then handed the wine off to her.

For most people, hearing that they could knock off early for the day was a blessing but every time the cafe closed, Casey just felt nervous. At least when she was working, busy filling coffee cups and wrapping Lee's delicate pastries in wax paper, there wasn't time to think about messing up. A slip of the tongue was easy for anyone, but it was much harder to quell any facts about her old life when she had only been in Cascade Falls for a few months. The people around had years to check themselves, to learn what not to say and how to exist under a microscope. Casey wasn't the same kind of adaptable, and she feared that it was going to come back to bite her in the ass.

Regardless, the blonde wore a smile as Lee agreed to get going for the night. Casey moved away from the windows and back behind the counter, storing away the cleaning supplies and making sure to the till was secure when the bell on the door chimed. It was a little too late for anyone to want coffee, but Casey lifted her head anyway, ready to greet a customer when she saw Riley instead. She knew him from the bar, a place that she had come to frequent after closing time at the Falls Cafe. It probably wasn't the best place for a former addict to hang out, but the people were decent company and the less time Casey had to spend in her small apartment, the better.

After repeating her the proper way to say her name, Casey took the bottle from Riley. "Thanks," she said, a little perplexed by the gift, but appreciating it anyway. Constantly being watched made it difficult to have any kind of fun, and the blonde could clearly remember her days of bar hopping with Danny, chugging cheap beer and well drinks until she was sick—Cascade Falls wasn't like that. "I think I'll be cool," she insisted with a laugh, smiling as Lee put in his amused two cents before the three of them were headed out the door.

Keys in hand, Casey shut off the lights on her way out and locked the cafe behind them. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked, looking to Riley as she fell into step beside the larger man. "Lee and I are going to Jean's for crumble, do you want to come?" Maybe it was rude to invite someone to another person's house, but in Casey's world, it was perfectly acceptable. Back in Florida, people showed up at her place unannounced all the time, and friends of friends sometimes ended up becoming important fixtures in her life. After all, it was just dessert and Jean had practically invited the entire cafe that morning.

 

[Jess Buck]

Jessica did her best to calm herself down enough to speak to Dr. Harmon but couldn't stop crying. It had been years since she sobbed like this. She wondered why all of a sudden this feeling of grief and loss just washed over her. Lyle spoke up for her.
"She was making dinner and we were just talking and she said something to me in Spanish and she just started crying." He looked back down at Jessica. She had been kind and understanding to him during this weird time. He could tell by her name that she was Hispanic and he just thought that she would slip in and out of Spanish here and there and he'd have to get used to it and learn how to understand it. But she hadn't spoke Spanish at all to him until today. And when she did she completely burst into a pile of tears.

Finally, Jessica was able to compose herself and she looked up at Dr. Harmon.
"Dr. Harmon. I haven't spoke Spanish since I came to Cascade Falls and I.......I just feel so empty......like something is missing Dr. Harmon and I don't know what it is..." She said, trying to hold herself back from sobbing again. Lyle pulled Jessica into a close hug and held her tight as she sobbed into his lower abdomen. Lyle turned to Dr. Harmon, praying he knew what to tell Jessica to calm her down or tell Lyle to do to calm her down in a situation like this. He felt confused and powerless. He didn't even know what she had said to him. Probably some sort of term of endearment but still. Why would a simple word like that make her so emotional.

 

[upscalerat]

Just a few more words had been uttered when their cheery morning was interrupted by Norma. People hurried to leave, and Rhonwen was quick to finish her pastry and tea, and leave herself. She muttered that she couldn't spend too long away from school, for those still there to listen, and made herself painfully unaware of the nurse's presence. Ah, the nurse. In theory, Rhonwen felt sympathetic for her. No one associated the woman with good memories. Only their worst. Her dazzling, menacing smile greeted them all to- to this. Norma could have been a perfectly fine woman underneath her intense gaze, sure, but no one would give her the chance. Rhonwen included. Seeing her triggered memories of her own recovery: brihgt lights, too little sound, and everything gone. Emma, gone. Her family, her school, her friends, her life-

It wasn't easy for anyone. Rhonwen considered herself well adjusted. A model citizen, she'd tell herself in moments like these, aggressively putting her thoughts back in place. There was nothing the matter with Cascade Falls. Well, there was plenty wrong with it, but that was beside the point for the moment. For the moment, it was all about returning to her life. Teacher, friend, neighbor. And then, she was back, and pushing through the doors of her school.

Every day was something of a moral issue for the woman. School was tricky to navigate. How did one explain to children that had vibrant memories of other languages that they were no more, just English now? How did one tell them to forget about holidays, because there was no way to celebrate them any more? Easily enough with the younger ones. But the older ones- how they resisted! Many of them were first generation residents of Cascade Falls. They didn't understand entirely why they had to forget their life, and Rhonwen was in no position to tell them why. "It's just safer," she'd always tell them. "It's better for the community. We're too small to have petty disagreements over what language to speak or what holidays to celebrate."

Sometimes she would have to catch herself. She'd been teaching for too long already, perhaps, and had to resist the urge to reach back in history to bring a nugget of wisdom to the future. Some days she would sit and wonder if humanity was doomed to repeat too many of the same mistakes again because of how cut off they were from the world, from the past. The teacher took comfort in knowing that she could nip some problems in the bud- but not enough. Never enough. She also relished how consuming the children were. They left little room to grapple with moral dilemmas, or worryings of the future, but instead demanded quick decisions and immediate attention. It was surprisingly useful. Both to her, and to Cascade Falls. Community first, children. Think of the all before you think of the one. The good of the may over the good of the few.

In this manner, the day passed by quickly enough. Perhaps having something to do late contributed: anticipation could change perspective. A break in the routine shook things up enough, it seemed. The woman found herself standing in an aisle, staring down bottles of wine, debating. What went well with blackberries? The thought formed before she could stop it: I'm Irish, I should know my alcohol. Rhonwen shut her eyes. That was part of the past. That was done, now. Moving forward. What if someone else brought wine? It was a clichê. She could do better than that- but what? Bread wouldn't do, as it wasn't dinner, and neither would dessert. It was dessert.

Finally, Rhonwen found herself at the florist's, grabbing a bouquet of.... Something yellow, with violets and purples accenting heavily. It was something. Better than nothing, at any rate, the woman told herself, handing over paper money, and briskly walking to Jean's. At this rate, she would be timely, if only just barely.

 

[Adelaide]

Jean looked up from the table she was setting on her back porch and swept her eyes over her garden. She was not the best gardener, but she appreciated the soothing tasks of maintaining it as well as the payoff in having something lovely and distracting to catch the eyes. Her yard wasn't large, but it was as smooth as a push mower could get it and bordered by narrow, long plots filled with plants of whites and blues and purples. Just a few steps down from her modest porch was a small path picked out by hand made mosaic stepping stones that led to a wooden bench swing set up by the back of her yard. The swing was flanked by bird-feeders and wind-chimes.

She put down the last of the napkins, a simple bit of lilac cotton, folded into triangles and laid out for easy access. Also on the table was a stack of her plates, appropriate cutlery and a pitcher of iced tea with lemon slices, and plenty of glasses. This wasn't a formal gathering by any means but she appreciated the little touches here and there and didn't think she could forego them and feel comfortable. But for all that, her place was open and welcoming whether it was dressed in formal wear or in casual garb, as it was now. She too was dressed casually, in white cotton capris and a sleeveless orchid colored sweater she'd knit herself in the depths of winter when she'd been dreaming of just such a night, warm with just the right kiss of a breeze and the sun making a gorgeous display in the sky as it sank. Sometimes, the beauty of their setting was enough of a balm to momentarily distract her from the knowledge of the eyes on her at any given time.

She was smoothing her hair and adjusting those two bobby pins when a knock came. She bit her lip around a smile, her brown eyes warming in pleasure as she called, "coming."

As she walked her way through the house towards the front door. All the windows in her house were open, the breeze tickling at the white curtains making them move in and out, as if the house were breathing, slowly in slumber. She heard Eric calling and caught a glimpse of him and someone else through the leaded glass windows that flanked her front door, Josh, perhaps? The two men had a surprising friendship going which in her mind was a good thing. Isolation wasn't safe in a community like theirs. She liked to think that connections and reminders of each other's humanity might save someone, some day when a Fête was called. So far, her theory hadn't been proven. In this, as in so many things, she remained hopeful.

Opening the door she met them with the same, grin, delight etched in her features. Josh stood beside Eric as she'd hoped. She took the wine Eric handed to her making a soft sound of gratitude.

"Oh thank you." She said tucking the bottle into the crook of her elbow as she stood on her tiptoes to air-kiss in the vicinity of each man's cheek. Connections were key, closeness and contact were critical. "I'm so glad you could make it, both of you."

Then she stepped to the side and gestured the two men in.

"You are indeed the first to arrive. I've got things set up on the porch, it seems like too fine an evening to spend indoors."
She led them through the foyer into the kitchen, polished and bright, that overlooked her porch and backyard.

"Let me let this breathe while the crumble finishes." She put the bottle down on the counter and opened a painfully clean drawer for a corkscrew. "Joshua, would you be a dear and get some wineglasses down for me?" She pointed to the glass-fronted cabinet where they were housed.

Connections, contact and involvement would maybe save them all.

 

[respire]

He loved the sunset.

There was something so remarkably calming about a sky painted in a bold conflagration of color, the dying light of an ancient star reflected in the horizon's lambent line. The world stopped, and it rested, and it grew silent. Night came and swept its sable cloak over the earth. Four sharp knocks had roused Josh from slumber, consciousness reminding him that he was not in fact with his daughter, but laid out upon a drab couch in the midst of a cold room. The last images of scaling a verdant hill with Maddie faded to nothing. The sound of her laughter was replaced by the sound of his feet padding into the entryway where a lone, potted plant played sentinel to the front door. He curled his fingers to his palms and cracked the joints, the sharp pops oddly calming.

Eric was waiting outside, and the sight of his comrade brought a bleary smile to Josh's lips. "As if I'd forget free crumble." His voice retained a measure of hoarseness from sleep, though he was fast dispelling the grogginess through a series of rapid blinks. A pleasant hush had settled over the town, the air having cooled considerably. Despite the obvious invasion of privacy the townspeople endured, there was something so precious about the night, something which at least imparted the illusion that he was safe. And he would take that comfort, however false. The farmer gathered his things - a hasty affair before they departed, on their way to what Josh hoped would be a pleasant little gathering with minimal fuss. The wine was a bonus; liquid courage loosened tongues, and Josh was always more than happy to partake of whatever alcoholic beverage would be offered. "Hey, if Jean doesn't want it, I'll take it." He jested, eyeing the bottle in obvious approval. "Well, I..."

Recalling gifts meant recalling Janet. Recalling Janet meant recalling Maddie. The two men might not have been allowed to share their pasts; but they had more in common than either of them really knew. "Me neither, but you can never go wrong with drinks." Years of imbibing hard liquor had taken its toll on his stomach; wine was always the easiest option, providing a pleasant buzz without being too unforgiving. Conversations went considerably smoother afterwards.

Jean's home smelled like a dream. The rich scent enticed persistently and demanded he pay it attention, bringing with it promises of a sated stomach and warm hospitality. Josh smiled, and smiled genuinely as Jean greeted them at the door. "I'm just glad I got invited," he responded in earnest. Wary of social gatherings as he might have been, it certainly got a lot easier once these gatherings had actually commenced. The more familiar the people, the less of a toll being social took; and he was glad to finally admit - to himself, at least - that it could've been far worse. It could've been a fete.

The interior of Jean's abode was impeccably clean, spotless and gleaming. The kitchen was similarly immaculate, an exhibit of domestic excellence. Thoroughly impressed, Josh's brows arched in a wordless display of approval. "Of course." A swift nod of affirmation was expressed as he strode towards the cabinet, pausing briefly in quiet admiration before reaching for the glasses. He collected each one by its delicate stem, then delivered them to the counter where the bottle sat, a waiting prelude to the night ahead. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

He caught a reflection of himself in the cabinet's surface, the countenance of a man who had once wholeheartedly believed that lie.

 

[Reina]

When the coffee shop bell ringed and nurse Norma's face smiled back at them, Alison's mind quickly flashed with memories of five years prior. She was suddenly overcome with memories of waking up in a hospital room, bright lights and the smell of alcohol. The first face she awoke to was Norma's and that same sinister smile. It probably wasn't really a sinister smile but to Alison it was. To Alison it was a remainder of the first day she lost her life. The sense of fear and anxiety was becoming too much to bear and Alison knew that if she wished to keep her composure, she was going to have to leave the coffee shop. She grabbed her muffin and coffee and set the fake money on the counter. "Thanks guys. See you all later." With that said, Alison made her way around the rest of the crowd and quickly left the coffee shop, the bell ringing signifying her departure.

It was like a fire was lit underneath her step as she quickly moved down the street and towards the grocery store. She fumbled with the keys as she took them out of her purse and shakily opened the door. Alison made her way behind the counter, setting her bag down and placing the apron over her head. She braced herself against the counter top, letting her head hang slightly as her brown locks draped over her face. She took a few deeps breaths and held back the tears. She couldn't cry now. The fete was approaching. She couldn't be one of those on the sheriff's list. She quickly straightened up, passed a hand through her hair and breathed in deeply one last time. Everything was ok. Everything was ok. As calmly as possible, Alison proceeded towards the light switch and pressed it, illuminating the grocery store. She turned the sign from closed to open and went behind the counter again. Just another day in Cascade Falls.

The day passed drearily slow. There was but so much organizing Alison could do with the store. She was happy to see those that came in to make their purchases. She greeted them with a smile and helped in anyway she could. She made recommendations and rung up the sales of the same fake money then returned to tapping her fingers on the counter top as she watched the people pass on the street outside. When the day finally came to a close and the sun was starting to make its descent, Alison closed down the shop. She set her apron on the side of the counter as she did every evening. She grabbed her bag and keys and headed towards the door. But before she did she decided she needed to bring a gift to Jean. She looked around the store, found the fruit that was in season and packed them in a small bag for her. She might enjoy these, Alison thought to herself and proceeded towards the front of the store. She shut the lights and locked the door, completely forgetting to pay for the items she took in her hurry to leave.

She need these social events, these interactions. The town was so lonely and rigid. Spending time at Jean's was a welcome relief, at least it was for Alison. She walked down the street carefully, keeping her head low to avoid the cameras. She opted not to go home first. It wasn't as if anything was waiting for her there. She proceeded straight towards Jean's. It was but a few minutes walk for Alison as she arrived at the steps of her neighbor. Taking another deep breath, Alison rang the bell and waited for Jean to answer the door.

 

[of Dirt]

Riley was satisfied with Casey's reaction to his less than smooth entry. He half-expected disaster. "Yucky," he replied with regards to Everclear, still smiling. Lee had a lot to say and enjoyed his humor until he suggested they may arm wrestle over Casey sometime. Riley felt blood rush to his head. He was certainly strong for his size, but Lee had both length and width over him. It didn't take a genius to realize that they were in totally different leagues. He wondered if he was being made fun of or if it was a harmless joke. He wasn't unaccustomed to being made fun of by people who thought they could get away with it. The many scars on his knuckles were an indicator of that. However, the older he got the more he found himself getting into trouble for stupider and stupider reasons. That's why you're a piece of shit, he thought. Relax. You're not in Boston anymore. Riley's unwavering smile showed no indication of the toxicity of his present thoughts. He left the arm-wrestling comment unaddressed.

"What am I doing tonight…," Riley thought out loud when Casey asked. Unless he heard of a party going on later, he usually went straight home after work. He lived to be around people. It helped him forget about everything. He didn't even need to like the people he was around. When it's just himself and his thoughts, he goes into a darker place where it'd be best to just try and fall asleep. Although living in Cascade Falls wasn't the greatest thing that could've happened to him, it wasn't the worst either. His previous life wasn't much better and he knew that the greatest mistakes he made back then were due to succumbing to impulses spawned from less than heavenly thoughts. Ever since he woke to his new life, he wanted to change. Perhaps hopelessly.

Before he could come up with a lame lie, Casey invited him to Jean's, who's residence he wasn't unfamiliar with. He always admired how collected she was. Although he acknowledged that it may just be a façade, he still viewed her lifestyle as being the ideal one. She seemed at peace with herself and her current situation. Riley desperately wanted that for his own well-being. He enjoyed her company and always tried to make it to her get-togethers if he could.

"Jean's. Haven't seen her in a while. Sure!" he replied, frowning soon afterward as he looked at his clothes. He was usually a little dressier whenever he visited, depending on the occasion. Coming from the bar, all he was wearing was a solid gray V-neck and a pair of jeans that probably smelled faintly like beer. He was 99 percent sure that if anybody would notice the smell it would be Jean. "I look like shit, though," he added, shortly followed by a shrug. It wasn't worth going all the way back to his place to put something else on, he concluded.

As they got closer to Jean's he caught sight of Alison walking with her head bowed, as though someone were stalking her. Riley grimaced, knowing almost immediately what was going on. It was futile to avoid the cameras, but nobody liked being watched. He often walked around the town in a similar manner, thinking himself brave in his little act of rebellion. "Alison? You look like you just stole something," he joked with a little smile once he got to Jean's doorstep, hoping she'll feel less tense. "You stirring up trouble again?"

 

[neptune]

While many residents were perfectly capable of behaving themselves during the day, the time after the sun set, and before it was set to rise again, was the optimal time to catch indiscretions. Although most rule breaking was benign—an assigned husband and wife talking about their old lives, an attempt to turn away from the cameras—the recent surge of opposition in the town made his obsessive monitoring more important. In fact, it was so important that Howard didn't have the time, energy or patience to deal with Jessica's latest crying jag. Suddenly speaking Spanish was not forbidden, and although the accident always brought on retrograde amnesia, the woman had been in the town for too long to still be surprised by herself. Her integration had been smooth, and that was an accomplishment in itself.

The real question, however, was how to make her leave without breaking her trust. Although Howard didn't think that Jessica would ever be a well of information, he had his reservations about Lyle. There were plenty of school-aged children in town, many of whom were younger than the lanky teenager, young kids who didn't complain about missing their real parents, who didn't seem to contemplate risking what was taught behind the closed doors of school. If Howard lost Jessica as a patient, he may never hear about what Lyle was up to.

"Culture is something to celebrate," Howard said, thinking on his feet as he shifted the briefcase around in his hand. "Perhaps you're missing the joy of sharing it with others." Earlier in the day, Norma had mentioned that Jean Belmont, the one who wandered the streets at all hours of the night, was having another party. "Why don't you go and see Jean?" he suggested, patting her on the shoulder and hoping that she would stop clinging to Lyle at some point. "I heard something about pie, or cake; maybe you could teach her some Spanish."

It was flimsy logic, but it was the best that Howard could come up with in a pinch. "And we'll talk about this tomorrow, Jessica. I promise, we'll get to the root of this problem." He managed a smile, "now, dry your eyes and try to calm down."

After, he sent them off, and himself headed back toward the mountain.

Despite being trapped in Cascade Falls, Jean's home had a welcoming air to it, almost freeing as she opened the door and met he and Josh with a smile. Whether it was genuine or not was debatable, but Eric appreciated the gesture and the lengths that the woman often went to just to provide some comfort to her neighbors. Plus, the warm scent of sugar and blackberries mixing with the pines was a nice change from the dank and hopp-y smell of the bar, which was where Eric had planned on spending his night had it not been for Jean's invite.

"Thanks for having us," he responded, laughing as Josh expressed his own gratitude. It was good to see the other man out of the house and sometimes, Eric worried about him more than he should. The mysterious voice on the phone that often gave him instructions had done its best to implore that he was above the others in town, that he was special and that giving information wasn't betraying any kind of trust, but Eric disagreed. He was just as isolated as everyone else, and although he still had to do his job in order to keep his life, he didn't plan to use this time at Jean's to spy on the rest of the town.

Although he had been to Jean's before, mostly for her seasonal parties, Eric was always impressed by the way she kept the place. It was neat and tidy, well put together much like herself. He caught himself wondering how she found the time to maintain the property, to keep it in such immaculate and staged condition, but that was uncomfortably obvious—everyone in town had all the time in the world on their hands, and Jean's hobby was clearly aesthetics. It was something that Eric could silently appreciate, and he continued to do so as the woman lead he and Josh into the kitchen, revealing that they were the first to arrive.

"Do you need me to do anything?" Eric asked, as Jean opened the wine and Josh reached for the glasses as per request. Standing around always made him feel rather useless, but there was another pitfall to being idle. Consciously, Eric raised his eyes to the smoke detector overhead, sure that someone was listening, their finger on the metaphorical trigger and ready to flag even the most innocent of conversations.

From the front of the house, the doorbell rang and Eric tore his gaze away from the ceiling. He was glad that the others were starting to show up, and new company provided more distractions.

The walk to Jean's was a quick one, something that Casey was thankful for because the wound on the back of her thigh continued to burn with each step. Although she hadn't been able to check the tape all day, knowing that the bathrooms were wired, the blonde still wanted to take a walk after dark. Her worries were many as they headed over, and a few times, Casey caught herself with the truth on the tip of her tongue, ready to tell both Lee and Riley to check their legs when they got home, but that was too risky, and endangering her own life was bad enough—she didn't need to drag her friends into trouble as well.

Standing there on Jean's porch, Casey the three of them were joined by Alison and she greeted the other woman with a polite smile. As Riley chatted her up, she wondered how many people were already inside, and if there was even enough crumble to go around. She supposed that it didn't matter, it wasn't her party, and she didn't plan on staying too late anyway. After the doorbell had been pressed, surely catching the attention of more than Jean, Casey looked down the block. In the distance, she could make out the shape of a woman, probably Rhonwen with all of that white-blonde hair. She raised her hand in a wave, unsure if the other had even seen her.

"You're going to give her a complex," Casey laughed before the door opened. Although she did have to admit, Alison looked the slightest bit guilty about something. The two weren't close, just acquaintances who interacted for a few minutes every morning but that didn't stop Casey from hoping that Alison was alright. She thought back to the day before, when Elizabeth had caught her in Alison's store—maybe someone had threatened her.

Hiding her frown with a grin, Casey looked to Jean in the doorway. "Surprise! We brought coffee," she exclaimed, gesturing to Lee's full hands, "and beer—if anyone wants to try."

 

[Jess Buck]

Jessica nodded to Dr. Howard. His words made her feel a little better. She took in a deep breath before letting out a long sigh.
"Thank you Dr." She said to him before turning around and heading towards Jean's house. Lyle followed behind her.
"Are you alright Jessica?" He asked. Jessica nodded
"I will be." She said, taking in deep breaths. Lyle grabbed Jessica's hand and gave it a squeeze. They walked in silence for a while before Lyle spoke up.
"Why haven't you spoken Spanish in so long?" He asked. Jessica thought for a moment.
"I guess....It just reminded me of the past and.......we're not allowed to think about it so I did my best to shut it out so it wouldn't bother me. I have a good life here in Cascade Falls. I have a job I enjoy and now I've got you." She said smiling up at Lyle. "I guess I just wanted to make sure I didn't screw it up....." She shrugged. "Maybe I should start speaking Spanish more. That way when I do slip up it doesn't freak me out like that again." Lyle nodded
"That's a good idea. Besides, Iv'e always wanted to learn Spanish." Jessica giggled and gave Lyle's arm a hug. When she first met Lyle he was very resistant towards her and Jessica was afraid he would never warm up to her, but it seemed that he had grown fond of her. That made Jessica very happy. Because she had grown fond of him too.

After a while they finally made it Jean's house. Jessica knocked on the door and put on her best, cheery smile. Completely hiding her panic attack from before. Lyle looked down at her completely surprised. How could she just recover so quickly from something like that? Lyle could barely talk to people normally, let alone after having a sobbing fit. Lyle hopped that he'd be able to just sit and watch everyone. He didn't exactly want a bunch of random strangers asking him random questions. He just wanted to be here to support Jessica in case she needed him. Lyle was surprised by himself; he had become very fond of Jessica very quickly, witch was unlike him. He normally took a while to be comfortable around someone but there was a very friendly and kind air around Jessica that made him feel welcome and.....at home in a sense.

 

[Adelaide]

Jean watched Josh reach for the glasses in their high perch, envying him his height. She had to get out a stepstool to fetch anything from the high-shelves and it was always such a bother. It wasn't that she was short, she was not, it was simply a matter of that shelf being just out of her reach. It served as a small reminder of all the bigger things she couldn't do without help. But such thoughts were not happy ones and she was determined that this should be a fun, casual evening full of camaraderie, laughs, good food and better company. She wouldn't think about the ears listening or the eyes watching, she would think only of her guests.

She set the bottle down on the counter not far from where Josh had put the cups, looking over at Eric as he asked for some way to help. This was a casual gathering, she reminded herself as she almost automatically told him that she had it all done, which she nearly did. At her larger parties she exhausted herself running around getting things for people, making certain everything was thought of and perfectly prepared. This was supposed to be something looser, more impromptu. She'd have the afternoon to prepare but she could spare a thing or two for him to do.

"If you want to get the pitcher of iced tea out to the porch that would be wonderful. It's in the fridge, right next to a bowl of sliced lemons. Why don't you two get them out to the porch and have yourself some."

The bell rang then and she smiled in delight. "I'll go see who that is."

She wiped her hands on the towel she had hanging from the front of the stove, one she'd embroidered herself with a delicately wrought vine of blue morning-glories twined around red-spotted mushrooms. Above the floit was the line "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

"Coming!" she called in an echo of her greeting to Eric and Josh. She grinned impishly as if it were a little inside joke of theirs then headed to the front door. The sun was just a touch closer to bed now. The sky just a hair more vivid. She could make out many people on her porch. The sight warmed her. She pulled open the door with the same pleased smile and the same welcoming light in her eyes which caught and reflected back the brilliance of the sunset.

"Welcome!" she said and looked to each face, naming them each in turn. She was delighted to see Riley among the crowd though she hadn't personally invited him. She'd only invited a handful because that was who she had run into in the course of her day. Riley was just a little dangerous though, not for himself so much as the fact that she'd seen him before, as in Before she'd come to Cascade Falls. She recognized his face and his voice but hadn't been able to place him and owing to the restrictions of their prison, she couldn't ask him. She thought she's seen a spark of recognition in his eyes a time or two. It didn't matter. For now they were citizens here and could only move forward.

"Coffee, wonderful. Beer, just as welcome. Come in, come in. The Crumble is just about to come out of the oven and Josh and Eric are bringing the drinks out to the porch. I thought we'd enjoy the night out there."

Holding the door open she gestured them all inside, grinning up impishly at Lee as he passed, "I hope you brought an appetite."

Once they had filed inside she double stepped past them and led them towards the kitchen with all its enticing scents and the porch. The door closed behind her with a satisfying thud, closing out the sight of the town and making it just a little easier for her to pretend.

 

[Jerelin]

Today had been a rather uneventful and exhausting day, not that he had done any work to be exhausted by. It always seemed to happen that way - the laziest days were the most tiring. Of course he had worked, if it could be called that. Michael would put in the hours at work, hours he would rather spend at home in his garden or even in the recliner. Eight hours a day, he would flip the sign of his small shop to "OPEN" and sit. And sit. Sometimes, if he was incredibly bored, the craftsman would wander into the back room and sort the different types and sizes of wood that had somehow come into his inventory (not that it needed to be sorted often - if at all.) All day, everyday.

However, today Michael decided to sway away from the norm. Instead of sorting through his inventory, the man had a strange desire to build something. He kept an ear to the main room, listening for the little ding of a bell that would ring if he had a customer -- it never did, but he didn't want to miss that chance if it ever fell upon him -- and gathered some needed supplies and set to work.

He wasn't sure why it dawned on him to create a music box. It wouldn't be able to play music, but the little wooden figure would turn anyway. The hardest part was actually whittling the small child-like figure and then attaching it and the small gears together in a way that would actually allow it to rotate. After a few hours, the box was complete. The wood had been stained and the small figure painted. Michael had never gained much skill as a painter, but this he was proud of. He wound the small crank on the back and watched the little girl pirouette in silence.

"Daddy!"

Michael turned around, his dark eyes searching as a small girl's laughter rang in his ears. His heart had found its way to his throat and he found himself clutching the worktable as if it was a lifeline. That voice. It had been a while since he had heard the phantom, so long that he had imagined it to have disappeared. He forced himself to look back at the music box. The figure had stopped turning; its blue eyes staring at him in accusation. Without thinking, Michael reached and slammed the box shut. He had enough for one day.

That evening, the man found himself on his front porch. A mason jar of sweet tea felt cool against his fingers as he took a drink, rocking slightly in his wooden chair. He had freshly showered, the remnants of water dappling the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think about something other than the voice he had heard earlier. Perhaps he should go back to talk to Doctor Olson. Michael had before, only a few months ago when the voice started. It was always the same. A little girl laughing, or saying "Daddy". It sounded familiar and it hurt his soul. Dr. Olson has assured him that he wasn't going crazy. It was his mind telling him that he longed for a family. Or something along those lines. It had been so long ago that he couldn't remember the exact wording.

A plethora of voices forced his eyes open. This time, it was some that he recognized. Michael turned his gaze to a house down the street. He couldn't make out their words or their faces, but company was something that he had a strong desire for, especially at the moment. The worst thing he could do would be staying along with his thoughts. Michael put the jar down on the porch before getting up and making his way back inside.

Minutes later, he reemerged with dried hair and fresh flowers as a sort of gift to Jean, since it looked like it was her place everyone was gathering. Without hesitation, Michael made his way down the street, throwing a wave and a friendly "hello" to the people gathering on her porch. The door opened almost at once. He filed in behind everyone almost sheepishly, feeling odd because he just jumped into the group. His stomach knotted. The door closed behind them and Michael allowed himself to ease up only slightly. He hadn't been refused. The bouquet of freshly cut flowers had almost been forgotten in his grasp.

"I hope you don't mind," Michael started, stepping toward the woman slightly. He held the flowers out to her, hoping that he didn't seem awkward. "I've always thought zinnias were the most beautiful this time of year."

 

[neptune]

The key to a long and happy life in Cascade Falls was distraction. The busier the mind was, the less time a person had to reflect on all of the moments that had passed by beyond the fence, and all of the time that could never be regained if they ever happened to make it out alive. Jean's parties—no matter how big or small—were more than just a chance to socialize and catch up with friends, it was a long moment of normalcy, the opportunity to get lost in a world within a world and despite the cameras and microphones that recorded every second of it, there wasn't much that beat dessert and a quiet night with good people. At least, that was how Eric felt about everything, and even something as simple as fetching iced tea from the refrigerator was enough for him to stop thinking for a while.

"Sure thing," he said with a nod to Jean as the woman headed off to answer the door. Looking to Josh, Eric raised his eyebrows, as if to say they were in for an interesting night before gathering the pitcher of tea and the precisely sliced lemons in his hands. He took both items out to the back porch, that overlooked more pines. Without any light pollution, the beginnings of stars were already out for the night, twinkling in a dying bed of pink and orange as the sun steadily continued to set; another day gone and tomorrow, more of the same.

Breathing a sigh, Eric set the lemons and ice tea down on the center of the table, sure that Jean would rearrange it once she was through inside. Even her small gatherings were something to fuss over and sometimes, Eric wondered if that was how she kept her sanity. It was a difficult thing to consider, and no one ever got to talk about how they felt under fear of execution. Turning to go back inside, join the others that he could already hear in the kitchen, a hellish scream sounded in the distance. He paused, fingers poised at the handle of the door as another scream echoed from beyond the fence. No one had ever told him what was out there, although he'd asked dozens of times, and the only answer he ever got was placation—it wasn't his concern. Someone up there didn't trust him, that much was obvious.

As a third scream followed the previous two, banshee-like and relentless, Eric dismissed the happening entirely and entered the house once more. Evenings outside were often interrupted by screeching and wailing, but it was never something that Eric had gotten used to. If the others had learned to fully ignore it, he wanted to know their secrets.

Greeting the new arrivals with a wave or a nod of some kind, Eric spotted Michael in the crowd. It was good to see the craftsman out and about again, and he couldn't seem to recall the last time he'd had an actual conversation with the man. "How have you been?" he asked and then noticed the accumulation of gifts for Jean. He smiled to himself before snagging her attention, "I got the iced tea out like you asked." For whoever was watching, Eric was sure that he was supposed to discuss her wandering, but it was the last thing on his mind. Jean deserved better than an ambush.

Stepping into Jean's home was like entering an entirely different world. Although the Victorian was hardly the largest house in town, it beat her small apartment in size at least two times over. Casey's eyes were everywhere, taking in each decoration and design choice that made the space entirely Jean's. So far, she had learned that it was cultivate individuality in town, but Jean had managed to carve herself out a little slice of heaven and Casey didn't bother to hide her envy as she followed the line of other guests into the kitchen. How Jean was going to feed everyone with one crumble was beyond her, but Casey was starting to feel better about tagging along.

"Your house is super nice," she complimented with a smile, thinking that Jean looked like something out of a movie. A specific title rested on the tip of her tongue, but Casey held back, not wanting to ruin the mood and possibly end her life just for having the nerve to mention a film. She glanced around again, trying in vain to find the cameras spying on them, but looked away to set the beer down on the counter and help Lee with the coffee if he needed it.

From the corner of her eye, Casey spotted a bearded man that she had only ever seen in passing. "Those are really pretty," she said of the flowers, diving right in. Being social came easily to Casey, even when she didn't want to be around other people, she faked it like the best of them and gravitated toward anyone who was willing to pay attention for five minutes. In the past, that kind of behavior had gotten her into trouble but there were no bad people in the valley; just behind the cameras.

 

[Adelaide]

Jean walked towards her kitchen her broad smile fueled by the genuine pleasure she took in a house full of people who had come to socialize and eat her food. Was there any greater thrill than that? None to be found in Cascade falls, she was certain. Smiling back over her shoulder as they walked she caught sight of Michael, another person she hadn't invited but was thrilled to see. That he handed her flowers made him even more welcome. His garden was a delight and put hers to shame with its sedate color scheme and tame borders. Her garden was pretty and she was proud of it, but Michael's thrived with life and color that drew the eyes in a way hers never would. Because of that, his gift of Zinnias was most welcome.

She paused, gestured for the others to continue to the kitchen and fell back beside Michael. She lightly touched domed head of the flower in admiration. Standing so near to him she caught the scent of soap on of him. Underneath the freshly washed smell was a lingering touch of earth and sun that fit him so well, as if his work with the earth in his garden had marked him indelibly.

"Beautiful! Your flowers are as welcome as are you. I'm so glad you came along. I'll get a vase for those."

She headed to the kitchen, feeling a rising joy at having a full house and fighting the urge to fuss and re-arranged things to perfection. She kept reminding herself that this was a casual affair and she needed to relax so the others could. The scream that was only slightly muted by the walls about them made her falter just a moment in her step and made her smile tighten. The sound was something one never got used to, but she'd had many years to practice pretending she hadn't heard it and with a house full of guests she put such practice to work. Heading to her sink she crouched down and fished out a simple vase from underneath. She heard the door close behind her just as she turned on the faucet to fill it as Eric spoke.

The sound of his voice, unruffled by the awful sound eased her back into her role of hostess, her safe role where she knew what she was doing and could control the outcome of the evening to some extent.

Calling her thank you to Eric the sweet new girl from the Coffee shop came into her view and complimented her on her house.

"Thank you." Jean said simply, lifting the vase onto the counter and fitting the flowers into the vase. She spent a moment arranging them, because she couldn't not and then handed the vase to Michael.

"Would you bring them out to the porch for me?"

Turning to the girl again she pointed to the wine and glasses, "help yourself, there is iced tea out on the porch and I'll have the crumble out in a moment. As if on cue the timer on her stove buzzed its angry wasp sound. It was show time! She pulled open a painfully organized drawer and fished out two potholders shaped like violets and looked to see where Lee was. It was key that he was there for the big reveal.

Then opening the oven she pulled out a large casserole dish, white with handles and big enough for a hearty lasagna filled with bubbling, beautiful, perfectly baked blackberry crumble. It smelled like summer and fall coming together in a hedonistic embrace. Sun-warmed berries and sweetly spiced grains in a perfect ratio. She set it on the stove to cool for a moment and turned back to her guests as she put away the pot-holders.

"Does everyone have something to drink? Can I get anyone anything?"

 

[Muirgen]

Lee grinned impishly at Jean as he heaved past her toward the kitchen with the big urn of coffee, shrugging his wide shoulders with a gesture that was somehow – almost impossibly - breezy and light. "Appetite, Jean? Oh yes. Definitely. I figure if I eat every last thing in your pantry, you won't have any more ammunition in our little War of the Pastries… "

The words were, of course, only his quiet kind of a joke for her, he had no intention of doing anything of the sort – that'd steal a great deal of the only fun he was ever allowed to have in Cascade Falls. But as everyone arrived, moving out and about of Jean's home, the big man did lift the urn to her kitchen counter to plug it in, and began to [gently, and respectfully] rifle through her pantry looking for a proper carafe he was sure Jean would have tucked away somewhere. The woman was, after all, quite the wonder, and if this party was to become a porch-side gathering? She'd have just the thing to keep the hot drinks just so....

Silently he went about his work, searching through the cupboards and the pantry, listening to Jean's guests as they arrived and moved about her small but lovely little home, made bright and beautiful as much by the soul of the lady who lived there as the loving attention to detail she put into every least object here. Lee nodded appreciatively in agreement when Casey praised Jean's efforts ('super nice' – now how adorable was that?), and by the time Michael arrived with his offering of zinnias, he'd managed to locate the carafe on a top cupboard shelf. He poured coffee from the urn into the thermal carafe as Jean arranged her flowers, his hazel eyes flickering toward Michael with a good-natured lift of his brow and an acknowledging nod, knowing very well he'd been decidedly bested in the 'gift-bearing' department.

But of course Lee's good humor was as big a façade as any of them perpetrated here in Cascade Falls. The idea that they were going to be spending the evening outdoors unnerved him completely, the muffled caterwauling screams that came in the night making his skin crawl. He could actually feel the goose bumps climbing up his forearms, and he swiftly tried to shiver off the foreboding. And just as he finished pouring himself a cup of coffee to carry outside (caffeine in the evenings had long since failed to have any effect on his sleep) he caught Jean's directions to Eric, to take the iced tea outside with them if he'd be so kind.

No, he reminded himself, he didn't despise the Sheriff. Eric had a job to do here, and a life of his own to save just as much as any of them did. Hell, Lee liked the guy. He really did. But Lee glanced suspiciously toward Eric anyway, the thin smile on his lips never quite making it to his eyes – the same eyes that witnessed any number of throats blossoming crimson beneath the Sheriff's blade like terrible red roses. His teeth clamped tight behind his lips, his stomach roiling at the memory and ensuring that no matter how heavenly Jean's blackberry crumble might be? Now he'd have to force himself to eat it.

He'd been in this hellhole for nearly a decade now. There'd been no companionship for Lee, not even a pseudo-wife assigned to him, and the loneliness was damn near unbearable most nights. Cascade Falls had stolen everything from him, all the chances he'd ever had for a real wife and happy non-freak children - a family of his own.

Lee had done his damndest all these years to make this cruel purgatory of a life as good as he could for everyone who came in or out of his coffee shop, and he'd never asked anyone anywhere for a thing in return. All he'd ever kept for himself were his few small fantasies, locked up tightly in his own skull, where there were no cameras. Fantasies like… Well hell, he'd have asked Jean out years ago if he'd felt sure that somehow, some way, this wouldn't wind up being a death sentence for her. He liked to think she might have said 'yes,' at least once - and in his happier moments, maybe that one chance would have become something more if he played his cards right.

And as for Casey? He'd never had any help in the coffee shop, all his years in Cascade Falls. Her being there now was great of course, once she got past the initial shock everyone suffered on their arrival. Yes, it was good to have company too – the days got long and lonely when people weren't exactly stopping in for a morning cup of coffee or pastry. But that was nothing compared to just how easy she was to be around, the effortless grace that still somehow felt bright, and light, and strangely, blessedly innocent. In a few short months, she'd become… Well, she was too old for him to think of her as a kid, but he could think of her as the kid sister he never had.

It was family at least, of a sad and decidedly pathetic kind. Or at least as close to all the family he was ever likely to have, even if it was a complete fabrication from beginning to end. But it was those damned screams in the distance, those agonized, screeching wails that reminded Lee even this flimsy, ephemeral measure of something good in his life could be ripped away, at any time.

His eyes narrowed, the smile slipping as he imagined Eric's hand wrapped around that blade he knew so damned well, sliding in the night over Casey's throat, or Jean's –

Lee hissed softly as a splash of hot coffee scalded the tender webbing of his hand as it tensed, and then chuckled softly as the habits of years took over his suddenly grinning and self-deprecating expression. "Ow… " he grumbled, wincing as he pouted playfully, glancing down at his hand and slowing his pace before heading out to the porch, holding up his hand with the cup as he moved. "Seems hot coffee remains hot – Jean, you have a band-aid for this, or how about a kiss for a boo-boo?" Lee's wink promised he was only teasing of course.

 

[of Dirt]

"Always good to see you, Jean. Been a while," Riley greeted as Jean welcomed them into her more than well-kept home. He didn't know how long it had actually been. It was easy to lose track of the days and counting just made him feel like he was in prison. Time felt particularly slow to him. It could've just been a week, but he'd still probably act like he hadn't seen somebody in a month.

It wasn't the first time he was in Jean's home, but he still looked around and admired the place like it was the first time. He didn't come from a family that would have had the money for a place like hers. They were slobs too. Well, just his dad. As different as her lifestyle was, she always managed to remind him of home before Cascade. He remembered thinking when he first met her that she looked kind of familiar. A hundred different faces must've interacted with him on an average week on the job back in Boston, and they all demanded that you remembered them, or they'd be less likely to leave a tip. Riley learned to remember and couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen Jean in that past life. He couldn't ask and wasn't sure if he would. He wondered why he so often felt the urge to reminiscence about a shitty past. It must be pretty bad here, he thought. Just forget it. Sometimes he wished he were a goldfish.

Josh and Eric had arrived early. Riley greeted them with a smile. "Sheriff! Last time I saw you…," he trailed off. Somebody was probably executed, he finished in his head. He wondered how he went as long as he did without saying something shitty to his face while he was drunk. "Remind me." He seldom called him by his first name. The man never sat well with him, even if he was just a trapped animal like the rest of them. With all the spying, killing and confusion and nobody to blame for it, it naturally fell on the enforcer. Riley often thought about what he would do if he were appointed the same role. Would he take a stand against the fetes or would he continue the tradition as he was told? Of course it wouldn't be any different. Riley was a coward. Eric was a coward. They all were. But upholding the fetes was too disturbing of an act for him to not feel sickened by the man. A faint voice in the back of his head still told him that if he were sheriff, he would never have somebody killed.

A chill went down his spine when he heard the shrieks outside. He huffed and turned away from the rest of them for a moment, hiding his grimace. Sometimes the screams were easy to ignore. Especially when he was alone at his own place, drinking himself to sleep or something, but the effects of the alcohol were gone hours ago. Being around other people usually brings out his best mood, leaving him at his most vulnerable to the horrors everybody ignored every day. He heard Casey commenting on the flowers Michael brought and composed himself. It suddenly occurred to him that he was probably the only one who arrived empty handed. How inconsiderate of him.

"I'm not very thirsty, thanks," he replied to Jean's inquiry. "Is there something I could do, though? I wouldn't want to see you running around for us all night," he added, genuinely wanting to do something.

 

[neptune]

For all of the people in town who despised him, who hated his guts and his very existence, Eric wondered how many of those same people had the stomach to handle his job. The position of sheriff, of protecting the town from itself, wasn't something that was earned—there was no interview process, nothing that said a person had to have motivation, the right set of skills, or even be motivated toward justice—they just had to be mentally present. Eric had never asked for the polished star on his chest, it had simply shown up in his mailbox a few nights after his arrival in town with a letter that explained nothing and everything and before he knew it, he was hosting his first fête. Unlike everyone else in town, the strippers turned waitresses, the scientists turned teachers, Eric had adapted to much worse than uncertainty.

If they wanted to hate him on principle, that was their problem.

In a home as lovely as Jean's, there was no place for bitter or angry thoughts. She had gone to such trouble to give everyone that she could think of a few hours of comfort, a little bit of a break from the soul-crushing, mind-boggling existence that was life in Cascade Falls and Eric wasn't about to ruin it. Despite the comments that lingered on the tip of his tongue for every sideways glance he thought he saw, his manners kept him in check. After Josh had poured the wine, Eric took a large glass and began to head back outside, ready to ignore the screaming when the bar fly caught his attention.

Cocking a brow, Eric silently dared Riley to finish his sentence, to remind everyone of the last soul that had been stripped from their lives. What came instead was a wise choice, and Eric allowed a measured smile to cross his expression. "Last time you saw me," he recalled, taking a drink from the glass in his hand, "you were getting me another beer." For a moment, Eric held Riley's gaze, not willing to back down until Jean's hospitality broke the tension.

Even with the patio door closed, the banshee-like screams echoed through into the kitchen. Eric looked around, wondering who was nervous and who was capable of distracting themselves for the night. He took another drink from his glass and excused himself to the back porch.

Just when everyone was starting to have a good time, Cascade Falls did something to remind its residents that they were trapped. Casey was sure that everyone in the room had heard those muffled screams, so shrill and difficult to block out, and they still sent a chill up her spine even though she should have been used to them by now. It was just one more reason to want to get out, to leave this horrible place and get back to Florida, back to life and friends and family—maybe they missed her the way she missed them.

After the momentary pissing contest between the sheriff and Riley, Casey perked as Lee burned his hand. "You should put some butter on it," she offered, still trying to decide between beer, wine or iced tea, "that's what my mom always--" The blonde paused, feeling like the entire room was staring at her, ready to retrieve Eric from the back and demand her death for a second of slippage. Her cheeks burned, "I mean—that's what I've heard. Helps it heal faster or...something." Uncomfortable, Casey did her best to laugh off the mistake, her eyes on Lee as if he could do anything to save her.

The last few months that Casey had spent working in Lee's cafe were some of the easiest and most rewarding times in her young life. One minute, she was taking her clothes off for drug money, and the next, she was pouring coffee with a smile on her face. In a way, Cascade Falls was a blessing, a place that had gotten her clean, had given her a valuable friendship and a few other people to lean on; it was almost paradise. Every time Casey caught herself getting comfortable, she remembered that horrible nurse and the fence that surrounded the town, all of the cameras and the spying, the phones that didn't work and the mass gathering that everyone seemed to be so afraid of. How could anyone be happy when they were trapped like fish in a barrel, just waiting to be shot?

"Yeah, do you need any help?" Casey asked, hoping that if she changed the subject, everyone would continue on as though nothing had happened. "I can't believe you did all this by yourself." She smiled, hoping for discretion as she reached for a cup of coffee, hardly thirsty, but her shaking hand needed occupying.

 

[Adelaide]

"I'd like to see you try!" she quipped to Lee as he hauled his urn into the kitchen and began rummaging about. She appreciated that he felt comfortable enough in her home to do so and refrained from stepping in to help. She wanted people comfortable in her home, it was why she did what she did.

It was wonderful, at least on the surface to have her home full and people as relaxed as they could be, ready for an evening of socializing. Lee was so adorable, threatening to eat her out of house and home. She could just picture it. He was so big, he could probably do it too. She relished their mock rivalry, both for the way it made her stretch her cooking skills to the distraction it provided from the daily horror she fought to overlook. In any other situation she might have had him over for dinner, just him. Or she'd have swung by the coffee shop just before closing and lingered. But this wasn't the sort of time and so she had people over en masse for a myriad reasons, not the least of which was keeping the people who watched from knowing who was dearest to her, though in truth most of the people there she was more than passingly fond of.

Riley added his offer to the others, wanting to help in some way. She smiled at him, flashing a dimple and gesturing towards the porch.

"I won't be running around all night, promise." She said. "This is an informal gathering, just a few friends, some drinks and dessert. Once people get settled I might even kick my shoes off."

And she intended to, truly. "Why don't you go pour me a glass of wine and I'll join you all on the porch in a moment."

She looked over in concern as she heard a pained hiss from Lee. She was two steps towards him with the younger, sweetly pretty Casey was there with her little fumble and then quick recovery about the butter.

"I could kiss it better." Jean said to Lee as she moved to the fridge to get the white porcelain butter-dish out of it. She turned and handed it to Casey so that she could do the honors. "But if I do it might ruin the crumble for you. I want that to be the sweetest thing you have tonight."

She winked and then turned away to fetch the first-aid kit she kept in the bathroom that was just off the kitchen. It was only as she was moving away from the pair that she noticed the strange tightness in her shoulders and smile, a tightness that only grew when she looked over her shoulder at the pair. It was odd, they worked together day in and day out, she had no intentions and yet… She took in a deep breath, held it for the count of four and then blew it out slow as she fetched the quilted basket that held her first aid kit. She put it on the counter by Lee and Casey.

"Come out to the deck when you all are done." She put a hand on Lee's shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze and headed out to see if there was wine waiting for her on the porch.